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Just got up from the other desk where I’ve been working on the Jason book. I was frantic to work, and had to tell both Jon and Darla that I did not want lunch, that I had to work. Muse-driven, frantic to finish the scene. I knew it was intense, but I just printed out twenty-five pages. Twenty-five pages at a sitting. Twenty-five pages in about two and a half hours. Wow. Even for me, wow.
I’ve got an adrenalin rush like you wouldn’t believe. A writer’s high, but it will fade, and when it does it will be like all adrenalin highs, it will leave me tired. While it’s here the world is brighter, harder edged, crystalline, almost like that adrenaline buzz you get in an emergency when your senses heighten. The higher the high, the lower the low. I know that after all these years of writing. God, it feels like I could fly, but I’m already growing tired as I type this. Which means it’s going to hit me soon. That also means the crash will be pretty harsh. Oh, well, twenty-five pages, and we’re over four hundred pages in. Muse-driven, baby, oh, yeah!